A PROHIBITION KING

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 1, 1902

A PROHIBITION KING.

HOW AN AFRICAN KING made a prohibition law and enforced it in his dominions, is described by Dr. A. T. Pierson in the Missionary Review.

It appears that Sekhome, the chief of the Bamangwato, the father of Khama, had no faith in Christianity, and when Khama became a Christian, Sekhome tried to prevent his succeeding him. After some trouble, however, Khama did succeed, and set about governing according to his Christian principles.

He began to fight rum systematically. He called the white men together and told them his mind. They pleaded to be allowed to bring in small cases of brandy as medicine. He gave consent, but he must see no drunkenness. Of course the drunkenness came. Then there was a new summons for the white men, and this time they were forbidden even to bring in drink for their private table use. ‘Bring none! I will allow none! There's an end of it!’ He had to resort to fines, threats, and even to banishment from the country; but he stood firm. When, after many provocations, the crisis came, and notwithstanding oft-repeated warnings, there was drunken violence and uproar, the good Khama wore a stern face, which always meant fixed purpose. He went and saw with his own eyes how his laws were trampled on, and then he said:—

“You despise my laws because I am a black man. Well, if I am black, I am chief of my own country, and I rule here and shall maintain my laws. Go back to your own country. Take all that is yours, and go. If there is any other white man who does not like my laws, let him go, too. I am trying to lead my people to act according to the Word of God, which we have received from you white people, and you, white people, show them an example of wickedness such as we never knew. You know that some of my own brothers have learned to like the drink, and that I do not want them even to see it, that they may forget the habit; and yet you not only bring it and offer it to them, but try to tempt me with it. I make an end of it to-day. Go, leave my town, and never come back.

The effect of such talk from an African chief was like a thunderclap; everybody was stunned. One man at last ventured to plead for exemption from the stern law of banishment on the ground that he had grown up in the country, and he and Khama were old friends. “Surely, for old friendship’s sake you will pity me!”

“Friendship!” said the indignant Khama, “you call yourself my friend, do you? You are the ring-leader among those who insult and despise my laws.” Then, with withering words of rebuke, he answered his plea for pity, by reminding him that there was a plea for “pity” which he owed to his own people. His answer was worthy of Chief Justice Hale, who used similar words of the “mercy” due to his own country, which he would endanger if he was unduly merciful to criminals. Khama flamed with righteous anger, but he cleaned his town that day of the white man’s drink-curse, and then he also forbade the use and sale and manufacture of native beer. At one time death seemed to threaten him if he carried on his holy crusade; but he only answered, “You may kill, but you can not conquer me.”—Family Herald and Montreal Weekly Star.